


Sex, Drugs, and Bucky Barnes

by chimaeracabra



Category: Bucky Barnes - Fandom, Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Pierced Bucky Barnes, Rock and Roll, Smut, Tattooed Bucky Barnes, Tongue Piercings, Tool - Freeform, Valentine's Day, metal!Bucky, pierced Bucky, tattooed!bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 14:09:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9751550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chimaeracabra/pseuds/chimaeracabra
Summary: Recently joining the Avengers and rehabilitating with a brand new arm, Bucky takes up guitar. His newly discovered talents land him in a band, where he passes the time between missions. He meets a "groupie," a rock radio talk show host for an interview on local bands at a hole in the wall venue during a Valentine's Day music festival, and takes her home for an after party of the most private kind.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm REALLY fucking angry at AO3! I was trying to post this ON Valentine's Day, and I had 2 minutes left, and the bitch shit WOULD NOT POST. FUCK YOU, thanks for ruining my Valentine's Day.

            "As long as you continue to keep up with moderate usage—at _bare_ minimum— the muscles will continue to grow as normal tissue would," Dr. Cho informs, completely engrossed in re-wiring something in Bucky's arm. He doesn't look at it while she works on it anymore. It has begun to feel _so_ real that he never wants to see the other robotic-like pieces of the prosthetic actually inside.

            "So I'm cleared for my show tonight, doc?" he asks, grinning and facing the glass door that slides open as Steve walks in with two mugs of coffee.

            "Mhmm," says Dr. Cho absently, "A little guitar won’t do any damage to the digits."

He remains lying back in the examination bed, Steve handing him a mug. He grins, eying Dr. Cho.

            "He okay? I swear I heard something crack a few days ago post-mission," Steve states.

            " _Crack?_ " Dr. Cho asks with apparent alarm, pausing with tools in hand to look at Steve with widened eyes. She breezes towards some x-rays she'd taken and stares them over again.

            "Relax, Steve. I was just cracking my knuckles. Nothing's broken," Bucky promises, more so to ease Dr. Cho who looked as though she might explode when Steve said he heard something crack.

            "It's nothing, doc, just a nervous tick I have sometimes," Bucky says reassuringly.

            "If something was broken, I would have seen it," she says calmly, turning her head and glancing at Steve out of the corner of her eye.

            "Don't scare me like that. This is the first trial that's _actually_ working out," she explains. Truthfully, it has been around six months since she started working on building a new limb for Bucky, and many prosthetics until he finally seemed compatible with one. After seeing the way Dr. Cho fixed up Barton, Steve had been so hopeful she'd be able to help Bucky. At first, it seemed hopeless, but the results have been so promising in the past few weeks with this new limb. Dr. Cho shakes her head and returns to the prosthetic arm, continuing to close Bucky back up, Steve taking a seat in the corner. Bucky places the hot mug on the tray beside the examination bed, eying Steve.

            "You know, this is essentially a check-up. It's sorta awkward for you to be here," Bucky mumbles. Steve is just staring hard at his arm where Dr. Cho is working. He swears that Dr. Cho blushes momentarily. It isn't as though she hasn't seen Bucky topless many times before, but every time Steve walked into the room, she would get kind of flustered.

            "Oh," Steve says dumbly, "I'm sorry, it's just that…well, I was gonna ask you, Dr. Cho, if you wanted to be my date tonight? A couple of us are going to a little local music festival. Maybe it's kinda corny of me to ask, but it's Bucky's show, and I'm sure he'd be grateful to have you there, too." Bucky lifts his head up off the bed, smiling widely.

            " _All_ this time, you were just tryna muster up the courage to ask her out?!"

Bucky's check-ups are monthly, sometimes more if Bucky complains about anything, and every time, Steve just had to walk in unannounced. Dr. Cho blushes for real, turning on her heels to pull the x-ray scans down off the illuminator. Bucky starts laughing genuinely. Steve halfway glares at Bucky. Dr. Cho clears her throat.

            "Isn't it Valentine's Day? You don't have a girlfriend of your own?" She asks, keeping her back turned and pulling up Bucky's file on her laptop.

            " _No_. He's single as fuck. He's just so shy of women that he doesn't know what's good for him. Please, doc, say yes so he'll quit using the guise of calling you and asking you to come and check on my arm in an attempt to see you," Bucky says blatantly. She types away frantically and Steve stares at her back hopefully. Bucky pulls his shirt on, smiling and hoping that Dr. Cho will just go out with Steve this once. It has taken a while for him to stop talking about how much he misses Peggy, and Bucky is beginning to grow irritated with Steve always wanting to tag along during leisure time. Not to mention the fact that he and Tony are still not exactly on good terms, considering he's the reason Bucky lost an arm a _second_ time. Bucky had begun to think for some time that it might help Steve if he actually got laid once in a while.

            "Okay," says Dr. Cho, and both Bucky and Steve exchange momentary surprised glances. She still has her back turned, and she'd responded so coolly that neither of them is sure she really agreed.

            "One more thing, Barnes— _no_ tattoos on this prosthetic. It's realistic to the touch, but I wouldn't want any inks or unknown substances leaching into that tissue," she states, still typing something up at the speed of light. Bucky rolls up his formfitting black sleeve to eye the scene on his flesh arm. It's still unfilled, but covers him from wrist to shoulder. There's more on his ribs. He'd had a lot of free time while getting fitted for a new arm and he spent some of it catching up on music, discovering that he rather likes genres like rock and metal. Once he started getting tattoos, he just couldn't stop. He grins.

            "Yeah, I know, doc. You told me last time. Don't worry," Bucky points to his left ear, "I got ears. I'll leave you two… _alone_ ," Bucky states suggestively, standing and stretching. Steve looks at him with slight annoyance until he leaves the room, laughing to himself. Bucky follows the smell of bacon and eggs to the kitchen to find Sam making breakfast.

            "Hey," he says casually, realizing as soon as he stepped into the kitchen that he'd left the coffee Steve brought him in the examination room. He rolls his eyes, not wanting to go back and bother to interrupt what might _finally_ be unfolding between Steve and Dr. Cho. He smiles to himself as Sam flips a frying egg.

            "You're up early. And I suppose you'll be wanting some breakfast, too?"

Bucky grabs an apple out of the bowl of fruit in the center of the table and plops down at the counter to glimpse at the news on the TV playing past Sam. Sam always goes for runs in the morning, and he always makes breakfast right afterwards. If one was willing to wake up early enough, they could mooch off of him. Sometimes Wanda cooked breakfast for the team, usually on weekends, and Bucky had been hoping she would be up, making those Sokovian waffles he'd fallen in love with. But he didn't mind Sam's cooking, either.

            "If you don't _mind_ ," Bucky states, biting into the apple. "After all, I got you all _free_ access to the festival tonight—backstage passes, too," Bucky adds, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Sam laughs.

            " _Backstage_. Sure, you can have some…toast."

Bucky rolls his eyes at Sam.

            "If you're not nice to me, I'll tell Steve," Bucky jokes. The two of them laugh. It's sort of their ongoing joke…ish, pretending they can't stand each other still.

            "Who, surprisingly, might _actually_ get laid tonight. I set him up with Dr. Cho," Bucky states, his mouth full of apple. Sam pauses and turns square around, brown eyes wide, spatula in hand.

            "For _real_?" Sam asks in utter disbelief.

Bucky nods.

            "Bro… _for real_?"

            "She said yes to a date with him. They're going together to my show tonight."

Sam laughs, turning back to the stove.

            "On second thought, make it _French_ toast, Wilson," Bucky states, fishing for his earphones in his pocket and plugging them into his phone, turning on 1979 by The Smashing Pumpkins. He catches Sam glance back at him like he's out of his mind and smiles. After watching Sam cook a bit longer, Bucky's hands grow bored atop the counter. He rushes away to his room to retrieve his acoustic guitar before hurrying back to the kitchen. That's the thing that had helped him take so well to this new prosthetic, actually _using_ it. Dr. Cho had suggested drawing, but Bucky found quickly that he didn't really have a knack for it, until Barton handed him an old guitar that was apparently just lying around. In roughly four or so months, Bucky has become a master of the guitar.

            He couldn’t put it down some days, and when he started playing it at cafés, it didn't take long for him to meet a group of guys in a local band that could use his talent. There had been a few of them who played at a café Bucky began to frequent for its open mic nights. They saw him playing solo one night and practically begged him to join them. From there, it went on to booking clubs and Bucky realized it could be a lucrative experience. Not only that, but he realized how much using his prosthetic helped to normalize it for him. It had been traumatic enough to lose his flesh arm the first time, though the memory of actually losing it is hazier than ever before.

            He had gradually grown into that scene, adopting the look of a rock star. Times had changed so goddamn much, it was something extremely new to him, and his band mates, a bunch of twenty-somethings, convinced him he had "the look" due to his hair and tendency to wear black (which he did because he still wasn't too up to date about men's fashion in the twenty-first century and figured black could never make anyone look too out of place). It was only a matter of time before he started getting tattoos. The first time, he had gone with Steve, and they got some minor matching phrases on their ankles, stuff about their brotherhood. From there, Bucky was addicted. It only took him two months to get an entire sleeve. It's a series of intricate geometric patterns, some of which Steve had drawn, and he wanted to commemorate it in some way. Drawing was Steve's thing, and Bucky had to struggle for a while before figuring out that his hobby is music.

            When Bucky got his nose pierced on a whim one rainy Saturday before practicing with his band mates, he'd come home to dinner and Steve's jaw dropped. He'd said it was a bit much, but Bucky vehemently disagreed. Steve was so old fashioned, which annoyed Bucky at times. After that, he didn't bother to tell anyone when he got his tongue pierced. The stud in his nose was hardly noticeable, but he liked it. Sometimes he would change it up with a slender ring. Wanda and Clinton seemed to be the only ones in agreement with Bucky's new style. He wasn't going to let Steve rain on his parade. Many times, he had told Steve to stop being such a grandpa.

            Bucky had gotten so lost in thought that he doesn't notice Sam placing his French toast on the counter top, staring as he shreds away on his acoustic.

            " _Damn_ , Barnes. That's some talent right there," Sam states, arms crossed, "Man, you're drummin' on that shit, too?" Bucky snaps out of his daze, for a moment forgetting he'd even asked Sam to cook him something.

 

            "Thanks guys," Bucky breathes into the microphone, after he and his band have successfully played three of their songs in a row. For a moment, he's blinded from spotting Natasha and Barton in the near distance waving up excitedly at him. The crowd is larger than he'd expected, the venue bigger than the clubs he's used to playing. He had felt so much adrenaline walking out onstage and seeing how many people turned up, un-deterred by the winter's chill. Many of them are couples clutching each other, and Bucky has been hoping to catch a glimpse of Dr. Cho and Steve somewhere nearby. Bucky laughs into the mic.

            "My friends are here tonight, so forgive me for being a little distracted. This is the first time they're seeing me play. They love me enough that they agreed to come to just _one_ show this year." The crowd laughs and cheers as Bucky steps side stage to switch to his acoustic guitar.

            "I guess 'cause tonight's Valentine's Day, we're gonna play for you one of the songs we really love," Bucky states, smiling into the microphone and looping his acoustic over his bionic shoulder.

            "This is, in my opinion, one of Tool's finest pieces," he says, catching Steve at the other side of the stage for a moment, smiling and talking with Dr. Cho, who looks like she's having a hard time keeping her hands off him, grabbing at his arm laughing. Bucky wasn't sure that any of the gang would have taken advantage of watching from behind stage.

            "This one is called Schism," Bucky states, glancing back out into the crowd to find that Wanda and Sam are making their way closer to the front. At this, the crowd cheers and there's a couple of whistles too. Bucky has this feeling suddenly that he's on top of the world, and it strikes him momentarily that despite the fact that he’ll be going home with friends, he'll be going to bed alone. He starts playing the song he'd rehearsed plenty of times before, the sound perfectly emanating throughout the entire venue.

 

            "I can see us really going places, Bucky," Chris states, excitedly spinning his drumsticks.

            "Yeah, this is our biggest show yet," he says, casing his guitar in the little dressing room they'd unloaded their instruments in.

            "Dude, we _headlined_. Try not to look _too_ excited about it," Mike jokes, punching Bucky's shoulder. Bucky smiles weakly, leaning his guitar up against the wall.

            "Come _on_ , man, cheer up! Let's crush this interview and get some drinks," Mike states, picking up on Bucky's apparent lack of excitement. Bucky can't figure out why it suddenly bothers him so much that he's single on Valentine's Day. Maybe it's because, according to Steve, he'd been quite the ladies' man back in their day. But the thing is, Bucky can hardly _remember_ back in the day. Bits and pieces come up when Steve mentions specific memories, and it makes him feel kind of sore that he was able to set up his best friend for this shallow holiday while he intends to spend it with a few guys young enough to be his great grandsons getting smashed at some bar.

            Lane is packing up his bass, looking as excited as the rest of the guys, "I dunno, guys. I'm gonna have to pack it in kinda early. I promised Sarah I'd spend Valentine's night with her—"

            "Oh— _come on_ ," Mike mumbles.

            "Hey, don't be jealous just 'cause yours dumped you a week before today," Lane states.

            "Shots fired," Chris mutters, wanting to get them to laugh. Bucky rolls his eyes; they could be so childish at times.

            "Don't you have a girlfriend _too?_ " Lane asks as Bucky intercepts Mike from getting up into his face.

            "Chill the fuck out. I'm _not_ in the mood to play dad tonight," Bucky states, trying to keep things from escalating. Mike backs away and plops down on the couch, crossing his arms.

            "I'm a free man, Lane," Chris states, sitting atop a table and looking rather proud of himself.

            "Dunno about you idiots, but I'd _really_ like to get my dick sucked tonight," Lane mumbles.

The woman standing in the doorway seems to have walked in at the worst possible moment, blushing slightly. Bucky smiles awkwardly at her, clearing his throat, and then Lane just looks embarrassed, furiously blushing and taking a seat on the couch beside Mike.

            "…Is this a bad time?" the purple-haired woman asks, blocking a guy holding a camera from coming through the door.

            "No—in fact, it's perfect! Mike and Lane were just discussing how much they like giving each other blow jobs," Bucky states. It takes a moment before the interviewer realizes that this is a joke. She laughs as Bucky approaches her, shaking her hand. He had been staring at her from the moment he noticed her standing in the doorway. His heart flutters upon touching her warm hand. She's beautiful in a way that almost makes him shy, but she wouldn't have known it, considering how coolly he had responded as soon as she asked him a question.

            "I'm—" he starts, abruptly interrupted by the lady.

            "Bucky, lead singer of Cold Soldier—I know. I don't want to sound cliché, but I'm a _huge_ fan," she states. Bucky gets sucked into a pair of deep, dark, mysterious brown eyes.

            "I'm Bianca, your interviewer this evening. From NYRFM," she states, flashing a pair of perfectly straight white teeth. Her waist length purple hair shines under the intense light coming from a lamp in the corner.

            "Wow," Bucky says out loud, not having meant to and feeling stupid, realizing that he has yet to let go of Bianca's hand. She laughs.

            "I can say the same. You guys were _amazing_ tonight." Her eyes scan the room with excitement to see the rest of the band. He takes a step back, hoping she won't notice him looking her over. She's clad in a pair of knee-high brown boots, dark blue skinny jeans, and a mellifluous lilac top that's delicately sliced in patterns on the arms and torso, revealing enough of her flesh to make Bucky wonder what she looks like naked. He finds himself wondering whether she has any tattoos, and by the time his band mates are done introducing themselves to the interviewer and camera man, he's hoping he'll be able to ask her out so he won't have to spend the night getting drunk with Chris and Mike.

            Bucky does limited talking, giving his band mates most of the screen time. Bianca keeps directing the questions at him, but he doesn't want to be the center of attention, at least not for this interview; he's more interested in talking directly to her. He's still focused on checking Bianca out. She'd said she was a huge fan. Bucky finds himself wondering whether she has a crush on any one of them; that was usually the deal with the female fans, he noticed. He doesn't enjoy the way that Chris keeps trying so hard to make her laugh, and cuts him off a couple of times midsentence.

            "Okay, guys. Final question, many of the fans wanted to know your tattoo and piercing stories. If you wouldn’t mind—"

Bucky straight up pulls his shirt off and leans closer to the camera, turning to his right to show off his tattoos. To his delight, Bianca looks a little shy then, like she's trying hard to focus on Bucky's tattoos and _not_ his pecks, his rippling eight pack abs, or the rest of his muscular frame as he starts talking about his best friend Steve and his art skills.

            "That's kinda the theme of this whole sleeve," he explains, looking Bianca directly in the eyes and smiling, "I haven't gotten anything colored in yet, but now I'm not sure I want to. The elbow's a huge bitch for pain. I might look tough now, but I turn into the biggest baby you'll ever see when they shade over that area," he explains.

            "Awww," Bianca states, grinning from ear to ear. By then, Bucky is sure he's got her attention, because she barely studies Chris, who unbuttons his shirt to show off his chest piece, some cliché tribal shit that Bianca doesn't look that impressed by. When the interview is over and the camera man is taking some pictures, Bucky steals a moment to size Bianca up again. She crosses her arms, looking away shyly.

            "I think the fans would love it if they got some pictures of that sleeve," she states, gazing up at Bucky.

            "No problem." He pulls his shirt clear off again, hearing Chris scoff.

            "Is that _really_ necessary?" he asks. Bucky can sense their drummer losing confidence; he's a twig in comparison to Bucky.

            "Yes, because no one can see my shoulder with this thing on," Bucky mutters through gritted teeth. The camera guy faces Bucky where he leans against the wall near the lamp. To his surprise, Bianca runs up with him and poses for the camera, leaning casually against the wall, facing him.

            " _Oh my god_ ," Chris complains, knowing he's lost any shot at asking Bianca out. Mike and Lane just stand there laughing at him. Bucky flexes a bicep, bragging just for the sake of pissing Chris off more.

            "Hold on," he says, pausing to dip and pick Bianca up. She squeals excitedly, nearly dropping her microphone, as Bucky easily lifts her over his head like a barbell. He makes a wicked expression for the camera and when he slowly brings her back to the floor, she's looking flustered near to death. She covers her mouth with both hands, laughing.

            "Well, it _is_ Valentine's Day. I figure I gotta make the other ladies jealous of her—it's the _least_ I can do for a huge fan," Bucky explains, pulling his shirt back on. Bianca isn't finished fangirling, physically turning away from Bucky for a moment, knowing she's blushing madly.

            "Sweet of you," the cameraman states, looking through the pictures on his camera.

            "Aren't you fucking sweet?" Chris says sarcastically.

            "It was amazing seeing you guys live, and thanks for the interview," Bianca says, having collected herself. She shakes their hands, and the camera guy follows suit. He exits the dressing room and Bucky's band mates start picking up their instruments to bring them to their van. Bucky doesn’t wait for them all to leave the room before practically cornering Bianca, who is pulling up the camera on her phone.

            "Uhm, would you mind if I got some personal photos with you?" she asks, and it's almost like she's afraid he'll decline. Bucky laughs, more to himself than anyone else, knowing he's about t bag this girl.

            "You can have whatever you want, doll," he says. She eyes him like she can't believe he's real. He stoops to her height and poses beside her.

            "Fuck—you're so tall—I can't—"

            "Here," Bucky says, taking hold of her phone and snapping a shot of them, casually wrapping his arm around her waist. And he swears he hears her moan ever so quietly.

            "How's that?" he asks, keeping his arm around her waist. She's clearly distracted by it. She looks at the photo shyly.

            "Can you take another?" she asks.

            "Sure! Anything for you, sweety," Bucky states, turning the camera towards their faces again. This time, he kisses her on the cheek. She just about loses her shit, reviewing the photo with a smile so big, her face starts hurting.

            "Perfect," she breathes, "I don't want to sound like some kind of creep, but you're…you're _really sexy_ ," Bianca states. Bucky stands to his full height, looking down at her with interest now that she has flat out come out and said this.

            "You think so?" he asks smoothly, cocking a brow and inching closer to her, backing her into the corner until she hits the wall. She looks up at him hopefully, nodding. He steals that moment to kiss her. The next thing he knows, he's rushing her out of a cab and into the compound. He left without saying a word to his friends or band mates. There's something about Bianca that he can't wait to discover.

            "What is this place? It's…it's huge," Bianca says, pausing at the doors where Bucky opens them impatiently. She had paused outside, letting go of his hand. He grabs it again, leading her in.

            "It's where I live. Uh…me and a bunch of friends—but they're still out partying. It'll just be us," he promises. Bianca pauses in the doorway and Bucky turns around to pull her in further.

            "Hey, I promise I'm not some creep who's gonna hurt you. Will you please come in?" he asks. His voice is so sweet then that Bianca is totally drawn in. Any reservations she has are left at the front door with the cold. Bucky immediately presses her to the nearest wall and starts kissing her breath away, admiring the way that she gasps upon discovering his pierced tongue as he licks at hers forcefully. It doesn't take long for him to get a hand down her pants. Squeezing the ass inside her jeans, it feels as if she's not wearing any underwear. Bucky leans back a second to unzip her jeans, finding a lacey piece of material blocking her most feminine region from his view. He smiles at her and she shyly grins at him with pursed lips.

            "You seem like one of those girls who's really quiet, but deep down she's a kinky little kitten," Bucky says, scanning her face and grabbing a handful of that purple hair. She looks so innocent and it turns him on.

            "I didn't know your tongue was pierced," she says, "Why didn’t you share that in the interview?"

Bucky cocks his head to the side, "I don't share everything about me with just _anyone_ ," he states, "Does it freak you out?" Bucky asks with slight worry. To his delight, Bianca pulls her boots off to maneuver out of her jeans and jumps on him, wrapping her legs around his waist. Bucky laughs, and he carries her up the stairs and to his room, where he throws her roughly on his bed, hoping that she likes things rough. He locks the door hastily, turning to face her again. She looks up at him mischievously, and he gets the feeling that she _does_ like it rough. Bucky starts to pull off his shirt, and Bianca watches him, biting her bottom lip with anticipation. For a moment, Bucky is reminded of a deer in headlights, her big brown eyes fixating on him.

            "Wait, you're not recording this or something, are you?" he asks, pausing at the belt of his jeans. Bianca laughs.

            "Of course not. I'm not that type of girl."

Bucky grins, "But I have to warn you, I've never slept with a rock star before."

Bucky giggles, throwing his jeans aside and crawling over Bianca on his bed.

            "I'm not a rock star," he says humbly. Bianca pushes her hands through his healthy hair.

            "You're really cute. And I hope this can be more than a one-night-stand."

Bucky's eyes widen with amazement, "Is that what you want?" he asks genuinely. Bianca nods. Wishing he had at least bought this woman dinner first, Bucky sits back on his heels.

            "But it _is_ Valentine's Day and sex is pretty fun," she says, wrapping her arms about his neck.

            "Wait, you don't have a boyfriend, do you?" Bucky asks, "I don't mess around with girls who have boyfriends," he warns. Bianca shakes her head for no.

            "Well, then come here," he says slyly. Bianca laughs as he pulls her waist up, damn near ripping her underwear clear off; there was an audible tear. She gasps at the sudden turn of the situation; he had gone from zero to sixty in one second. Bucky's piercing jabs at Bianca internally, and he gazes down into her eyes for any sign of discomfort, but she starts moaning right away, so he slithers his tongue as far as it will go inside of her, holding the mounds of her butt in his hands. It only takes Bucky two minutes tops to get Bianca's hips rolling obediently towards him, have her sweating and clutching the sheets madly. She grabs at his hair, wanting to keep his head in that exact spot while she climaxes.

            Bucky laps her up with satisfaction, slowly lowering her waist against the bed and kissing her maw firmly, wondering when the twitching will stop. When he gazes down at Bianca, eyes closed, still reeling, he grins, reaching into his bedside drawer for a condom. Before she even looks at him again, he slips it on and eases himself inside her, earning a gasp and dramatic moan. He gives a handful of violent thrusts and she digs her nails deep into his spine, causing Bucky to grimace a second. He pulls her up to straddle him, pounding up between her thighs, not minding the way that the pillows tumble to the floor.

            Bianca gazes down at him like she can't believe what's happening. A few moments more and he knows he'll be spent. Bianca wilts in his arms like a pretty little purple orchid, too tired to keep herself up in his grasp. He pauses, getting up onto his knees and turning her around, guiding her backwards against him.

            "Is this position okay?" he asks breathlessly.

            "Uh-huh," Bianca sighs, leaning down on her arms and backing up into him. He enters her again gracefully. She had gotten so wet that the contents of her body drip down erotically onto his blue sheets. Bucky threads his fingers through that purple hair, pulling it slightly while he slams into her repeatedly. Her moaning sends him over the edge in another minute, and he leans over her, moaning in utter relief. It was just as amazing as he was imagining it would be.

            Bianca falls asleep before he can get to know her much better, having traced his tattoos with her fingers, asking him questions about himself, things that were more personal than the interview with his band mates a little over an hour earlier. When he wakes up, he can smell waffles. Bianca is still fast asleep on his chest, where he'd left her the previous night. Carefully, he takes her head off his chest, stepping into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, disappearing out of his room to find out whether Steve had gotten home the previous night. He finds himself met Natasha, Clint, Sam, and Steve, all staring at a pair of jeans and boots on a stool at the kitchen counter. Bucky pauses, blushing. This is not where he recalls Bianca leaving them last night.

            "Groupie?" Natasha asks, pouring him a cup of coffee.

            "She's not a groupie. She's a nice girl," he grumbles. Steve looks like he's trying not to laugh.

            "She left without her pants?" he asks.

            "No. She's still in my room," he states, reaching for the sugar and stirring it into his mug.

            "At least I'm brave enough to even _get_ a broad's pants off. Where's Cho? It's about damn time you lose your v-card, Steve. You're making me sad," Bucky states. Sam, Wanda, and Clint turn to stare at Steve with wide eyes but Natasha only grins and shrugs, bringing the coffee pot back over to the stove. Steve crosses his arms and his face begins to redden like a tomato.

            "Happy Valentine's Day," Bucky says, grabbing Bianca's jeans and boots, waving and disappearing back to his room where the naked, purple-haired goddess is still sleeping in his bed.


End file.
